Porch Light

When I left my porch light on
you would slip in the door
so late that it was almost early.

In those first long nights
we knew a perpetual summer of window fans
And music echoing across vineyards.
Then the summer was gone, but the heat
still bubbled up from the sidewalk.

Why did we stop?
I just can't remember.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem